


That Unspoken Thing

by sniperct



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Guilt, Hiding Emotions, I Won't Say I'm In Love, Jaina Needs a Nap, Nightmares, Old Gods, Omens & Portents, Visions, shared trauma lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 06:37:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15746298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sniperct/pseuds/sniperct
Summary: Jaina doesn't sleep well. Before, it was nightmares about her choices and her guilt. And now, something else haunts her dreams. Vereesa knows that Jaina needs to rest, and sometimes one just has to take matters into her own hands. Even if it means exhausting Jaina to the point of passing out.





	That Unspoken Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Set vaguely around the end of the Pride of Kul Tiras storyline.
> 
> Special thanks to [mylordshesacactus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylordshesacactus/pseuds/mylordshesacactus) for beta and also a really fantastic line from Vereesa about her sister.

Jaina was drowning. 

Dark tendrils wrapped around her legs, pulling her deeper and deeper into the depths. Voices whispered in her ear. Some of them were familiar ghosts; others were not, instead spoken in languages long dead and long feared. And all that she could see was the endless black abyss.

When the pressure became unbearable, when her lungs threatened to burst, when she gave up all hope; the abyss looked back. The many voices became one. 

_**Il'zarq N'Zoth phgwa an'zig. Il'zarq taag ov'kadaq.** _

It rattled her bones, revertating through them until she had no choice but to to scream. An eye opened, two, three, four. Each was as red and vile as the last and the tendrils around her legs squeezed harder.

**_Al'ksh syq iir awan? Iilth sythn aqev... aqev... aqev._ **

Light swirled in the eyes and within it she saw a grim future. Great void tendrils rending Stormwind and Orgrimmar to dust and dragging Dalaran from the sky. 

She saw Boralus sunk into the sea and the streets of Zuldazar running red with blood. Massive quakes collapsed Ironforge on top of its citizens. Thunder Bluff was burning. Silvermoon shattered. 

A million graves stretched on forever and millions of souls writhed in torment. And that voice consumed her.

**_Sk'yahf qi'magg luk sshoq anagg'qen._ **

It was the Black Empire arisen.

She bolted awake, bare skin slick and damp, hair plastered to her shoulders and neck. The sheets were stifling, so she pushed them aside and pressed her hand to her face. Jaina had been plagued by nightmares for some time, but they’d usually been her subconscious guilt complex. This had been… something different.

A hand ran up her spine, the touch gentle. It was followed by soft lips at her shoulder, and she turned to Vereesa, giving her a tight smile. She’d almost forgotten the High Elf was in her bed. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“It would not be the first time,” Vereesa pointed out, brushing damp hair from Jaina’s face. Save the blonde witch’s lock, their hair was now the same silvery-white.

Jaina couldn’t recall how _Vereesa_ had begun. Taking each other to bed sometime after the Thunder King, lost in a mug of ale and the shared trauma of Theramore and the death of Rhonin. Vereesa’s husband, Jaina’s friend. There was also Pained. Kinnidy. So many other friends and companions, taken by Garrosh. Taken by the _Horde_. 

That familiar ache in her chest returned, but that was a thread she didn’t want to pull on just now. The memories of her nightmare haunted her. It felt like a vision and she didn’t need the ghosts of the past haunting her right now too.

“What is it?” Vereesa pulled Jaina against her, the coolness of her skin a welcome feeling. Jaina turned into her, feathering her lips against Vereesa’s collar bone and allowing herself that rare moment to really bask in her presence.

She was so tired that she could feel the weight of the bags under her eyes. Jaina’s bones ached and her heart hurt. Her voice was heavy. “Something _terrible_ is coming.”

Vereesa grew alert, touching two fingers to Jaina’s chin and lifting her face. “Is there an immediate threat?”

Jaina shook her head. It had been disturbing, and if she thought overly long on it she felt a pit of fear in her stomach. But it hadn’t felt immediate. “No, I don’t think so. But something is coming, and sooner than anyone will like. I’d suggest you send your sons back to Dalaran but if this was a warning even there won’t be safe. I should…”

Study? Research? That was something the old Jaina would do or say, and sometimes she didn’t know how much of that naive woman still lived. The woman who’d _only_ ever wanted to study, who’d thought peace could ever be possible. Maybe, in some other timeway guarded by what remained of the Bronze Dragonflight, there was a Jaina Proudmoore who’d gotten that wish. A Jaina who wasn’t jaded and broken and bitterly angry.

Vereesa eyed her sharply, then started to pull her back into the bed. Jaina wanted to give in; after all, what better place could there be right now than curled up with a naked elf? “Then we can worry about that tomorrow. When was the last time you slept through the night?” 

Even though this was the first night they’d spent together in a good long while, it was a question Vereesa already knew the answer to and Jaina didn’t bother to confirm it.

Jaina pulled away from Vereesa and climbed out of bed. Walking to the window overlooking the bay, she pushed it open and let the sea breeze cool her down from her nightmare. She leaned her hands on either side of the window, mind racing. There were few beings known to exist that fit the description of what she saw, and her voice was a low murmur. “Azshara might be related...Old Gods? N’zoth? We have so little information on them...”

There’d been the war in Ahn’Qiraj against the Silithid and the avatar of C’Thun. Then the avatar of Yogg-saron that had corrupted Ulduar. And of course, the remains of the dead Old God Y'shaarj had nearly been enough to corrupt the entire continent of Pandaria and grant Garrosh unlimited power. Yet despite that she could probably spend days poring through old manuscripts and barely learn enough to understand them, let alone fight them. She knew some of the adventurers that had fought those avatars. They were old friends and would answer if summoned. But not yet. Not until she had an idea of what was coming and how long they had.

And to top it all off, Jaina was almost certain that Sylvanas was somehow involved. It would be just like that Banshee bitch to—

“You have me naked in your bed, _Lord Admiral Proudmoore_ , you could at least _pretend_ not to be thinking about my sister.” 

Vereesa pressed against her back and bit her shoulder, sending a different kind of shiver through Jaina and derailing her train of thought. Vereesa’s hands slid down Jaina’s sides and around to her stomach, her fingers dancing across her abs.

Jaina managed a laugh at how ridiculous that sounded. She was glad Vereesa couldn’t see the look on her face, or how flushed her cheeks had become. She’d never hear the end of it. “ _Vereesa…!_ You’re not in bed anymore either.”

“Come back to the bed then.” Vereesa’s hand slid up, her palm brushing the curve of Jaina’s left breast before cupping it. 

“We’re at the window, someone could look up and—” Jaina cut herself off, groaning when Vereesa ran a circle around her nipple with her thumb and suddenly she wondered why she cared if anyone saw.

Vereesa’s lips curled up against Jaina’s skin, “You cannot be awake twenty-four hours a day. You cannot prevent every disaster and war, nor can you always be on alert. We have guards for that, spies, heroes and champions. And even _they_ must rest on occasion. Do I need to exhaust you, Jaina?”

“Somehow, I’m doubting your intentions are entirely altruistic right this moment.” Jaina’s throat bobbed; they’d barely kissed last night before Jaina had crashed onto the bed in exhaustion. Hands had wandered but Jaina hadn’t had the energy to pursue what they’d both wanted. There was a balance she wasn’t striking and she cared enough about the elf to worry. She just didn’t know what to do about it.

“Shall I stop?”

Vereesa’s hand stilled, and Jaina found herself wishing it hadn’t. How often had they sought comfort from each other since the destruction of Theramore? Vereesa burned away the darkness, at least a little, but Jaina didn’t want to reflect on that. Adding _feelings_ to this would only complicate things, even if the idea of lording her relationship with Vereesa over her sister was appealing. Petty. But appealing. 

So for now, she’d keep it secret. “No, please.”

Jaina was spun around, pressed against the window frame. Sliding her fingers into Vereesa’s hair, she could barely meet her lips halfway as Vereesa kissed her. She wasn’t tired _now_ , even though Vereesa was right, she needed the sleep. She was wired, body thrumming and mind twisting around the nether too restless to let herself sleep. Vereesa’s hands were gentle yet urgent, caressing across Jaina’s skin in familiar patterns.

She broke the kiss, gazing down at her. Vereesa was well toned, with something like a dancer’s body from the past few decades of war. She was young for a High Elf, only twenty years older than Jaina and by a significant margin the youngest of the Windrunners. Yet like Jaina, she’d been through so much that any innocence had long ago bled away.

Despite being younger, Jaina felt _older_ and she realized she’d missed her thirty-sixth birthday recently. Too much going on, and she rarely felt in a mood to celebrate.

Vereesa searched her face, then cupped her cheeks in her hands, thumbs rubbing lightly at her cheekbones. Emotion flashed in Vereesa’s eyes before she could lock it down and Jaina felt a tightness in her chest and knew that her own expression had briefly matched Vereesa’s.   
Torn between pulling away and surging forward, Jaina stood still, her eyes locked on Vereesa’s. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this silent conversation, this affirmation of _something_ that neither dared to voice and Jaina actually feared.

“Jaina,” Vereesa murmured, pulling her head down and kissing her again. Jaina slid her arms around her waist and lifted her up, Vereesa wrapping her legs around Jaina’s hips.

She carried Vereesa back to the bed and laid her down before blanketing herself on top of her. Vereesa tried to flip them over, but Jaina pinned her by the shoulders. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re just trying to avoid going back to sleep,” Vereesa complained.

Jaina just grinned at her and left a trail of teeth marks and hickeys from Vereesa’s throat down to her thighs.

It was easier to speak without words, in gasps and moans and the quivering of muscles. To let go of worries in the flood of endorphins and silky soft hair tickling her chest, fingers digging deep, Vereesa’s body pressed tight against hers. 

It was harder to ignore her feelings when Vereesa kissed away the tears and Jaina let her heartbeat lull her to sleep.

And still. 

And still in that dreamless darkness.

**_Ywaq maq oou; ywaq maq ssaggh. Ywaq ma shg'fhn._ **

_Something listened. Something watched_.


End file.
